Page 34 of Slightly Married (Irresistible #2)

I missed his presence beside me at night. The way he’d rest his hand on the small of my back when we walked together. Even his irritating habit of reorganizing my toiletries.

But it wasn’t just Konstantin I’d missed.

It was Sunday lunches on the terrace after church, Domna’s folklores, Santo’s terrible jokes and even Dimitrios’s flirtatious banter with every woman who crossed his path.

They had become my family too, making the betrayal cut deeper and the separation more painful.

“I don’t know if your father and I can fix what’s broken between us,” I confessed to my daughter. “But you deserve for me to try.”

I might not know exactly how to bridge the distance between us, but I was here now. And maybe that was the first step.

A week later, I made my way toward the front door, mentally reviewing all my decor plans for Thalassía. The villa’s restoration had been completed three weeks ago, and I couldn’t wait to begin adding furniture.

“Kayla,” Irida called, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

She was standing in the doorway of the library. Her expression, typically guarded, looked resigned.

“I’m already running late for—”

“Please,” she said, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “I won’t take much of your time.”

I hesitated, glancing toward the front door. I needed to get to Yiorgos’ place for my Lamaze class with Simone before heading to Thalassía. Still, something in Irida’s manner made me pause.

“Alright,” I agreed, moving toward her. “A few minutes.”

Irida sat across from me, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

“I wanted to apologize,” she began. “I kept Matthaios from his father out of my own pain. It was to protect myself, but also to punish your father. I never intended for you to be caught in the aftermath, but that doesn’t erase the harm caused to you and your sister.

” She looked up. “I passed my bitterness to my son, and your marriage paid the price for my choices. I can’t undo that, but I needed you to know I see it now. ”

I rested my hand on my stomach. “We all make choices thinking we’re doing what’s best.”

Irida’s gaze softened as she looked at my stomach. “When I found out I was pregnant, everything changed. Despite my heartbreak, I loved Matthaios from the first moment.”

“I understand that feeling,” I admitted, feeling my daughter move beneath my palm. “It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

“It never goes away,” Irida said softly. “Even when they’re grown men making terrible decisions.” She sighed and then straightened her shoulders. “This baby shouldn’t inherit our complicated history.”

I felt unexpected emotions rise in my throat. “That’s all I want for her, too. To be surrounded by love.”

“Then perhaps we can move forward,” Irida suggested. “Not forgetting the past, but not allowing it to determine our future either.”

I considered her words, the possibility within them pressing heavily on my mind. “I’d like that.”

The sunbathed the veranda in golden light as I settled onto my yoga mat. The terrace offered a breathtaking view of turquoise waters, but my thirty-two-week pregnant body was more focused on the ache in my lower back than the scenery.

“Alright, ladies, let’s start with our centering breath,” Leni instructed, adjusting her position on the mat beside us. I’d hired Leni before even returning to Greece, determined to be prepared.

Our last session had been at Yiogos’s house, where Simone was currently staying. I much preferred Thalassía and would make this our spot for future classes.

Simone sat cross-legged on my other side wearing a yoga fit. “I still don’t understand why I need to learn these breathing techniques when you have a whole husband.”

“Because,” I explained for the tenth time, “Konstantin works during the day.”

Not that I’d asked him. The truth was, he was maintaining the distance I’d demanded months ago, and using his work schedule as an excuse spared me from admitting what I really wanted. Him by my side.

Leni demonstrated the patterned breathing. “In through the nose for four, out through the mouth for six.”

I was midway through a particularly dramatic exhale when the sound of footsteps made me glance toward the villa. Konstantin stood frozen in the doorway, his expression cycling from surprise to confusion when his eyes locked on my sister.

“Konstantin!” I scrambled awkwardly to my feet, one hand supporting my lower back. “You’re supposed to be in Sweden until tomorrow.”

“Sent Andreas instead,” he replied, his gaze still fixed on Simone.

“You can’t tell Matthaios,” I hissed.

His jaw tightened. “Fine. But I replace your sister as,” he gestured at the setup, “whatever this is.”

Simone shot me a meaningful look. “This is my Hail Mary,” she said, already gathering her things. “I’ll be swimming in the meantime.”

“Traitor,” I muttered, though there was no real heat behind it.

Leni, ever the professional, smiled pleasantly. “The partner who will be in the delivery room should ideally be the one practicing these techniques.”

After a long moment, I nodded. “Fine.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling, pretending to be inconvenienced even as warmth spread through me at the thought of his hands on my body.

“Let’s start from the beginning,” I said with feigned reluctance. “Sit behind me,” I instructed, resettling awkwardly onto the mat.

His large frame enveloped mine as he positioned himself, his chest against my back, legs stretched alongside mine. His hands hovered near my shoulders.

“Like this,” Leni guided, placing his palms to rest on either side of my belly. The baby kicked immediately, as if recognizing his touch.

“She likes you,” I said softly.

His breath caught. “Remarkable.”

For the rest of the session, we moved together synchronously. As Leni packed up her things, Konstantin’s hand lingered where our daughter had kicked, his palm warm against my stretched skin.

I allowed myself to imagine us as a family—not just co-parents, but something whole and connected. When Konstantin finally helped me to my feet, his fingers interlaced with mine for longer than necessary, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

The weeks merged together as I divided my time between Athens and Thalassía, supervising the villa’s transformation while my body underwent its own dramatic changes.

At thirty-four weeks pregnant, everything required more effort, but watching Thalassía bloom under my direction made every discomfort worthwhile.

“What do you think?” I asked Domna and Irida as we stepped through the grand salon where workers installed the final pieces of furniture.

“Magnificent,” Domna remarked, turning slowly. “You’ve transformed it completely.”

“Hold up!” I called to the men positioning the massive olive wood coffee table. “Three inches to the left. It needs to be perfectly centered with the fireplace.” I waddled over and pointed to the exact spot I envisioned.

The workers adjusted the piece, and I nodded with satisfaction when it aligned precisely with my vision. A sudden tightness gripped my abdomen. I placed one hand against the doorframe and the other on my belly, breathing through the discomfort.

“Are you alright?” Irida asked.

“I’m fine,” I assured her, forcing a smile as the Braxton Hicks contraction subsided. “Just practise contractions.”

Across the room, Konstantin, dressed in casual linen pants and a fitted t-shirt, excused himself from a security system contractor and crossed the space in long strides, a water bottle already in hand.

“Here,” he said, offering it to me. “You’ve been on your feet for over two hours.”

I accepted the water, surprised he’d been tracking my movements. “Thank you.”

“You need to sit.”

“No, I’m fine,” I insisted, taking a sip. “Really. Just the usual Braxton Hicks.”

He nodded once, accepting my assessment without argument, though he remained within sight as I continued the tour.

The grand salon featured handwoven rugs from local artisans layered over herringbone oak floors, with contemporary linen sofas surrounding the massive stone fireplace.

“The chandelier installers are coming tomorrow,” I explained, gesturing to the temporary lighting. “An artist in Santorini creates lighting from reclaimed fishing nets and sea glass. It’ll be the centerpiece.”

A worker approached with fabric samples, and I immediately pointed to the ocean-toned linen. “This one is for the west-wing bedroom windows.”

“The library is my favorite,” Irida admitted as we continued, stepping around ladders and crates.

“Be careful with these books!” I called to the team unpacking leather-bound volumes. “Some are over a century old.” I turned to Irida. “I ordered first editions of Greek poets for the north wall.”

I’d designed the library with floor-to-ceiling walnut bookshelves, a rolling ladder, and intimate reading nooks overlooking the sea. When the carpenter suggested a more modern design, I’d insisted on traditional craftsmanship for the warmth it would bring.

“These marble busts are in the wrong places,” I said, gesturing to the classical sculptures. “The Aristotle should be on the left.”

By the infinity pool, I clapped my hands at the landscapers. “The olive trees need to frame the sea view, not block it! When you’re floating here, you want to feel suspended between trees and endless blue.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” Domna said, watching me with something like pride.

“Almost everything,” I replied, checking my tablet. “The staff cottages still need finishing touches. I want the people who care for this place to love living here.”

After our tour, I made my way to the eastern terrace where Leni had set up for our final Lamaze class. Konstantin followed behind me.

When we finished our last breathing exercise, he helped me to my feet. “I’m relieved these classes are completed,” he said as we walked toward the helipad. “You shouldn’t return to Thalassía until after the baby arrives.”

“That’s ridiculous! I’m pregnant, not helpless,” I protested. “There’s still so much to do. The kitchen delivery is scheduled next week, and the dining room chandelier installation—”

“I know,” he interrupted. “And I know you’re perfectly capable. But the nearest hospital is forty minutes away by boat, and even by helicopter, it would take precious time in an emergency.”

His concern was logical. I rested my hand on my enormous belly, feeling our daughter’s movements.

“I hate when you’re right,” I grumbled.

“I know that too.” A smile tugged at his lips. “But I want our daughter born safely in a hospital rather than on a boat or helicopter.”

Our daughter.

The phrase contained so much meaning, yet left so much unsaid between us. As we boarded the helicopter, I wondered if we would ever find our way back to each other.

“I can’t argue with that.”

He regarded me with an unreadable look, and I thought he might reveal something more personal. Instead, he simply strapped me in, and we returned to the cordiality I both resented and feared would never change.